


then break me open gently (just to craft me anew)

by gabriphales



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dry Humping, Fluff and Smut, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: dean and castiel sleep in together - and, perhaps, do a little more than that, too
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	then break me open gently (just to craft me anew)

**Author's Note:**

> ive never watched spn i just felt so awful abt that shitty series ending yall deserved better heres some plotless fluff smut nobody goes to super turbohell enjoy urselves before i end up kinning castiel

he likes it warm.

with the sun creeping in an open window, flashing light upon his sunken lids, and casting heat onto the pillow, dean is comfortable. castiel’s arms are wrapped around him, curved against the rugged lines of his shoulders, as the angel snuggles up to him as if he were something soft, delicate - perhaps to cas, he is. there's no point in getting up early. it's too sweet a moment to endure cracking open, too cruel to pull away from castiel. his mouth is hot against the back of dean's neck, breath coming out in soothing, leisured patterns of silky smooth gusts. and when castiel twitches in his sleep, dean turns to comfort him - he knows how bad the nightmares can get, after all.

with his knuckles brushing over castiel’s cheek, the back of his hand a golden warm infrastructure, lighting castiel up from the inside out, it's hard not to be woken. castiel nudges into dean before he’s even bothered with opening his eyes, nuzzling softly, and smiling when dean laughs, laughing at him in that familiar, kind way.

“you're awake,” castiel notes, his voice faint, soft and tender around the edges. “missed you.”

“you're snuggled up on top of me like a needy little puppy,” dean snorts, kissing at the sharp curves of his cheekbones, tracing the angles with little dots of his lips. “kind of hard to miss me like that.”

and castiel’s leg hitches over dean’s thigh, he clings onto him harder, with every last limb he's got. he rolls his hips, and his breathing hardens, melting into something tighter, harsh and uncontrolled. “want you,” he mutters, eagerly pining for dean's mouth now, the pinpointed gaze in his eyes impossible to misconstrue. dean rewards him with a little rut of his own, lips warm against castiel's, peaking temperature in a wet, soft kiss. 

“i’m all yours,” dean murmurs, an acceptance of his morning fate - to be lovingly dryhumped by one wanton angel. the poor thing, still wanting, even after last night. he must be utterly _desperate_ to want dean this badly - and dean's grateful, so grateful he chose him. of all the humans to guard, to love and protect and rely upon. his soft hands chose dean's hard, calloused fingers, his bruised knuckles, and held them without so much as a single question as to whether or not dean was worth it, if dean could be _saved_ from what he already is. of course, castiel loves what he is, loves him for his strength, and his warmth. the tender and the terrible. he’s so lucky, so lucky, _so_ -

“dean,” castiel's breath picks up on a hitch, his pace growing frantic, faster and disordinate. dean hushes him gently, kissing at his muss of messy hair, and rubbing his back to a slower, sweet rhythm. guiding castiel into a less frenzied approach, keeping him in check - can’t be getting too out of line on a sunday morning, after all.

“dean, i - i need you.” castiel pants, sounding so helpless, vulnerable in dean's arm, it’s hard to believe him for the celestial guardian he truly is. he’s precious when he lets himself go, simply existing with dean, raw and wanting and needing and _asking,_ asking for what he wants, because he knows dean could never deny him. 

and dean doesn't. with an arm tucking tighter around him, he swallows castiel's whimpers in a kiss, drinking down his gasps ‘til he reassures, “you’ve got me, i’m not going anywhere.”

that's all it takes to have castiel reeling, his climax a soft, simpering thing, like winding down after an excruciatingly long day. squirming and fidgeting like a nervous squirrel, castiel doesn't sit still until the last of his shudders pass on, and he can breathe easy again.

“got anything for me in store?” dean chuckles, watching the way castiel eyes his unattended erection. 

“of course,” castiel slinks down, laying on his belly as he dips between dean's thighs, prepared to service just as much as he's received. “any good angel would.”

and he keeps that promise, because he is a very, very good angel - and dean knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> as an aziraphale kinnie im so sorry to all the castiel kins out there. its ok we can get thru this together lets start a gay angels who get hatecrimed club


End file.
